Code of Justice. Liz Johnson
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out her hand. “Rob Robertson?”
“Nope.” He offered a Cheshire cat grin as he tucked his thumbs beneath his ever-present suspenders.
“No one knows his first name,” Jeremy filled in at Heather’s wrinkled forehead and pursed lips.
“A man of mystery. I like it.” Then her smile dazzled, white teeth flashing in the bright lights. “So, Dr. Rob. Jeremy tells me that you have something that might be of interest.”
“Well, Special Agent Sloan—”
“Oh, no,” she cut him off. “There’s no need to be so formal. Call me Heather.”
Rob smiled like he’d never been in the presence of anyone so charming before, and Jeremy had to hand it to the woman. She had brought them right where she wanted to be without having to answer any questions about her leg or why the FBI might have an interest in the man on the slab.
“All right, Heather.” Rob cleared his throat and tipped his head toward a gurney behind him. “That guy was brought in four days ago. He was classified as a John Doe, and the city requires that I determine a probable cause of death for any unidentified bodies.
“I ran a tox screen and came up with a concoction of street drugs that I’ve never seen in almost twenty years with the city.”
Reminding them that he wasn’t invisible, Jeremy asked, “What made you tip us off?”
Rob did indeed look surprised when his gaze jumped back to Jeremy. “I ran the drug mix by the boys in the lab upstairs. They said your friend Tony Bianchi had dropped off an identical sample just the day before.”
Jeremy glanced at Heather out of the corner of his eye, instantly catching her sideways peek. She nodded at him, and he knew they were thinking the same thing. They didn’t even have to look under the sheet to identify the dead man.
“Where’d you get that sample you gave to Tony?” Rob asked.
Jeremy shrugged in response, but it was Heather who took control of the conversation again. “I think we should see if we recognize him.”
Rob immediately turned his attention to Heather, apparently forgetting the question that he’d just asked. “Are you sure? He’s been dead awhile, and he was on the street at least overnight.”
Holding out her hand to the doctor, she said, “I’m sure. Will you help me up?”
Jeremy flipped the brake on the old chair and offered her his arm as well. She placed her left hand on his forearm and held fast. When Rob pulled the sheet back to uncover the pale face and ragged features of an old man with long, matted silver hair, Heather’s grip intensified for a moment, but her face never flickered. She squeezed again, as if confirming that she knew this man.
The old man’s face wasn’t familiar to Jeremy, but that wasn’t surprising. He’d only seen the back of the homeless man’s head that day in the hospital.
“You know him?” Rob asked them both.
“I think so,” Heather responded. “When did he die?”
“It’s hard to pinpoint exactly, as he was in the elements for at least one night. But as close as I can tell, five days.”
“And where was he found?” Jeremy offered this question, hoping Rob would answer it even if it didn’t come from Heather, his new favorite person.
“About two blocks east of Immanuel Lutheran.”
FOUR
“I know what you’re thinking.” Heather stared at Jeremy through the reflection in the rearview mirror. “Just say it.” He shook his head before letting off the brake and easing through the four-way stop.
Well, if he wouldn’t verbalize it, she would.
“Whoever hired that John Doe to kill me, killed him to keep him quiet.”
Not meeting her eyes again, Jeremy nodded. “Why would someone be after you?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. Leaning back, she tried to relieve some of the pressure in her head by rubbing slow circles in front of her ears.
“Are you sure this is all related to Kit’s drug case? Were you working on any cases that this could be linked to?”
“No. I’ve been on desk duty for months. I had hip surgery, and I’d just been given the go-ahead to return to regular duty when I took a couple days off to spend some time with my si-ister.”
She hated that her voice broke. Hated that tears threatened every time she even thought about Kit. The ache in her heart felt like it would never subside, never even dim.
He cleared his throat, keeping his head facing forward, as he turned on to her street. “Which hip?”
“Hmm?”
“Which hip? The same one as your knee?”
She let a soft sigh escape. “Thankfully not.”
After parking the car and walking around to her door, he cocked his head to the side, as if asking permission to assist her. She lifted her hand to wave him off, but thought better of it and offered him a quick nod.
As his broad arms wrapped around her waist to help her out of the car, she braced her hands on his shoulders, admitting that once upon a time being this close to a handsome man might have sent her heart racing. But it kept a steady rhythm, just another indication of its brokenness.
He handed her the crutches and walked behind her as they made their way toward her home. She unlocked the door and shuffled through, making a beeline for the couch, immediately propping her throbbing leg on the pillow.
Jeremy followed her in, closing the door behind him and perching on the edge of the overstuffed chair near the foot of the couch.
“Listen, Heather. I’m worried about you.” He rubbed his hands over his face, ruffling the short curls at his forehead.
“I can take care of myself.”
He shook his head. “I know you can. I saw you in there with Dr. Rob.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She tried to keep the pleasure out of her voice. He might have meant to chide her, but she took it as a compliment to be recognized for controlling the conversation as she had.
He let out a soft laugh, meeting her eyes with humor. “Let’s just say, I think I could learn a few things from you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But that doesn’t change the fact that someone is after you, and you’re not…shall we say, moving at your normal speed?”
She crossed her arms in front of her and glared at him. “I can get around just fine.”
“Is that with or without the wheelchair?”
Her lip curled, and she glared at him, wishing he would go. Wishing he were wrong. He didn’t say anything, just held her gaze with a look of assurance. “Fine. All right. Maybe I’m not at normal speed. But I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Against someone who’s sending people to kill you? And then killing the would-be assassins?”
She groaned, covering her face with her hands and shaking her hair over her shoulders. “Let’s just say I conceded the point. What can we do about it?”
“You need someone with you twenty-four seven.”
“Like a bodyguard?” She shook her head.
His head rocked side to side, lips pursed to the left. “More like a deputy protector.”
“Nope. No way.” She shook her head violently, lowering her hands to look into his brown eyes. “You’re out of your mind.